Growing Up Vulcan
by Bineshii
Summary: T'Pol is an unusual child and questions one of the basic things about life on Vulcan.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: No filthy lucre changed hands

**Growing Up Vulcan**

By Bineshii

T'Pol stood up, stretching her slender child's body to its full height and stretching her arms as if reaching for the salmon colored sky. The serenity after her morning meditation felt wonderful. It awakened her creative center and she always took a few moments to see her surroundings before the effect dissipated and thoughts of the day's activities took over. The sun had yet to attain its full strength. The colors playing along the garden wall were changing, brightening, from a red to a mellow yellow-orange that would eventually fade into the intense white glare of midday. She liked the dawn color even more than the reds of dusk. But her mother liked the onset of evening; it was a time to relax after a workday. T'Pol, with her quick energy and childish anticipation, liked the start of a day better than its end.

Thoughts of her mother reminded her that this meditation robe reached only to the top of her ankles now, and the pastel pink was too childish. She made a mental note to ask her mother for a new robe, one of deep blue like Vulcan's only sea. Her mother had taken her for a visit to that sea a month ago. The impression of cooler air and gentle wavelets was now one of the sensation-images in her meditation initiation techniques repertoire. It made her wonder about the seas on other worlds. At school they were studying strange new worlds and one of them was two-thirds sea. Its people were accomplished mariners. Her teacher said the people of this world were quite emotional and violent, as most non-Vulcanoid species were in their early cultural development. Even so, T'Pol yearned to visit such worlds someday.

The door chime announced a visitor. Koss probably. T'Pol repressed a tinge of annoyance. Since their bonding ceremony, Koss behaved like he owned her. He always wanted to be around her. A few bond mates became playmates, but the majority remained indifferent to each other. Of course children felt a pride in being bonded, it was a rite of passage every child wanted to get through so they could feel more grown up. "I'm bonded already, are you?" was a frequent question among children feeling each other out. The bonded ones felt superior to the un-bonded ones and play groups separated out into the younger un-bonded verses the older bonded children. T'Pol had never gravitated toward either. She liked to go off by herself or sit quietly with just one friend. She was considered to be a Vulcan version of an 'egg head' or 'nerd'. Some of the children taunted her before she was bonded, saying that she would end up being a priestess studying Vulcan's great philosophers most of her life, interrupted occasionally to satisfy the needs of un-bonded males (whatever that meant). This was something to smirk about among the girls. None of them wanted to be priestesses.

"T'Pol, answer the door," her mother's voice rang with insistence from the kitchen.

"All right, Mother, but do I really have to? I can see it is just Koss. Can't we pretend we are not home?"

The food preparations sounds halted in the kitchen. T'Les sighed at the impetuous tone in her daughter's voice. "He is just being sweet. Of course you must answer the door. What girl would not want such an attentive fiancé? I wish your father had been so loyal. He just ignored me until the first time it was absolutely necessary. After that he was better. But Koss shows signs of being an extremely solicitous husband. You should appreciate him more."

T'Pol stamped her foot. "Mother! I hate him! I can't stand him always being under foot."

T"Les pulled a flat baking sheet from the oven while clearing her thoughts as if preparing for meditation. Her voice slipped into long-suffering parent timbre "You'll change your mind. Now mind your manners. Bring Koss to the kitchen, I have a treat for him."

T'Pol opened the door. "What a surprise. It's Koss. Again."

Koss looked down into an elfin face displaying tightly thinned lips and deliberately out of focus eyes under bangs cut in absolutely correct Vulcan fashion. "Good morning, T'Pol. I trust you are feeling well this morning. May I carry your padds? We must hurry or we will be late."

"Mother wants to give you a treat", quipped T'Pol. "She did not offer me one, so if you are in a hurry, grab it quick and here are my padds." T'Pol shoved her padds at Koss's chest. By quick reflex he took them as he ran off to the kitchen to get his treat.

When they were half way to school, Koss looked sideways at T'Pol. "Would you like half of this seed cake your mother gave me?"

T'Pol was irritated with her mother about that seed cake. "No. She gave it to you. If she thought I deserved one she would have given me one."

In a condescending tone, Koss said, "She does not have to know I shared it with you. We can have our little secrets. We two should share things that we share with no one else."

Why was it that everything about this boy irritated her? And her mother's little ploy to made her contrite and willing to behave only made T'Pol more rebellious. She wanted to take that seed cake and stomp it into the sand that was blowing across the sidewalk. "Koss, just forget it. I would choke on it knowing my mother did not want me to have it."

"It is commendable that you respect your mother enough to accept the punishment of not having a seed cake. I find that a sign that you will be a logical and obedient wife." Koss seemed to tower even taller over her with this pronouncement. Little did he know that what he thought she would take as a compliment was setting her on the edge of murderous thoughts.

….

Mid to late afternoon was playtime at Vulcan schools. Since the heat of the day was at its worst, this time was set aside for children to nap and study quietly in the cool recesses built underground or to lie under the leafy arbors in the courtyards on the surface. T'Nis sat down near T'Pol under an arbor. The two girls relaxed in the mottled sunlight filtering through the leaves which moved ever so slightly in a faint breeze. T'Pol scanned the myth she was supposed to read by the next day, checking to see if she already knew the answers to questions at the end of the story. T'Nis was eyeing Koss who was eyeing T'Pol. Koss was playing a game with stones in the sand with three other boys, but would have jumped up had T'Pol beckoned him over.

"T'Pol, do you know that Koss is trying to get your attention?" T'Nis was a little put out with T'Pol, as she would like to have Koss join them.

T'Pol looked up from her padd. "You like his company, don't you. I do not. But if you wish, I will beckon him over and make some excuse to leave. Perhaps I could go keep your fiancé company."

T'Nis shifted to look directly at T'Pol. "If you are trying to imply that I am acting improperly, you are right. But I am not offended. I do wish that I had been bonded to Koss and you to Lovik. I detest that red hair. Why does he have to be so ugly, to stand out so?" T'Nis leaned back against an arbor pole, maintaining her eye contact and raising an inquiring eyebrow.

"Is it obvious that I am not entirely pleased with my bonding?" T'Pol's Vulcan directness held a hint of understated sarcasm which she would never have shown to an adult.

"Yes, at least to me it is obvious, because we have been friends since we began school together. I really would not mind if you went off to talk to Lovik. I believe he is studying alone near the T-plana-Hath fountain on the second recess level, as usual. The plash of the fountain is noisy so you can have private talks. Wouldn't it be nice if we could trade fiancés? "

"An original idea, T'Nis. That is what I have always liked about you; your refreshing off beat ideas, even if they are not always logical. For us though, your idea IS logical, but adults would hardly think so."

Being bored and still smarting about that seed cake, T'Pol decided a bit of mischief was in order and beckoned Koss over. When he sat down in front of the girls, T'Pol addressed him. "Koss, T'Nis and I were thinking of asking her parents if we could have a music afternoon at her house. I only play the lesser flute and not too well. I thought you and T'Nis might know other classmates with some musical skill. Wasn't your friend Sonik taking lyre lessons? I would be grateful if you would stay here and make a list with T'Nis while I go track down that new girl T'Bila who T'Nis says might also play the lyre." With her last word, T'Pol was on her feet moving off toward the underground recess area. Koss looked after her in surprise, but turned to T'Nis as he was requested.

Lovik was right where T'Nis said he would be. He was studying the same myth T'Pol had been, so he welcomed her telling him the answer to one of the questions on it. They sat absorbing the mist from the fountain as Vulcan bodies were designed to do.

"I like it here," said T'Pol, "maybe I will start coming here instead of sitting topside in the sun."

"I sit here because it is dim and my red hair does not glow so much that the other kids make remarks," said Lovik, freckles moving slightly on his checks whenever he spoke.

T'Pol really did want to get a better look at his hair, so she gazed at it in a clinical way.

"I like your hair. It is different, unique. Not many Vulcans have red hair, yet I hear it is more common among Terrans and Tellarites. Perhaps I will visit their worlds someday. Perhaps you would make a good ambassador to a world where red hair is more common."

Lovik raised both eyebrows. "Well, I knew there must be someone other than my mother who would like my hair. I do not mind being different. Keeps people from bothering me, so I can study. I want to be a linguistic researcher, so your suggestion about visiting other worlds is logical." Lovik moved closer to T'Pol. "You are bonded to Koss, are you not?"

"Unfortunately." T'Pol answered honestly. "T'Nis likes him. In fact she is talking to him right now so I thought I would talk to you. I too want to explore other worlds. T'Nis and Koss do not want to leave the home world. Perhaps you and I are better suited to each other and our intended mates better paired with each other."

The color of Lovik's freckles deepened. "Now that would put our parents into a tail spin! I believe you have an impish streak just like mine. I have never heard of such a thing happening as mate swapping. I wonder if they do that on other worlds? Can I walk home with you? I live three blocks beyond your home, I believe. You know, I have always thought you would be an interesting person to get to know. It is almost time for our last classes, so we have to continue this conversation later."

"I will meet you outside the school after class then," said T'Pol, pleased at the prospect of walking off with Lovik while Koss looked on.

….

Several evenings later, T'Les sat stiffly in a public meeting house. She wished her husband were here to help with this. As part of Vulcan's security force, she never even knew where he was most of the time. It was so inconvenient when she needed him by her side as in this important meeting.

The priest spoke first, addressing the three sets of parents and T'Les with stern countenance. "There is no precedent for changing bondings once they have been made. Except for the case of Nomork and T'Vasa. And that was to establish political stability, to end one of the devastating ancient wars. I see no logic in making changes in the bondings of Koss and T'Pol or Lovik and T'Nis. Children do not know their own minds; their interests and tastes change almost daily. Their parents who know them well by the age of seven, are perfectly within their rights, and indeed it is their obligation, to make these choices for their children. These children will be grateful for your adherence to your well thought out decisions when they themselves are adults. This is our way. Do any of you have anything further to say in this matter? No? Well then, I consider this matter close. Good day to you all." And he stood, raising his hand in the greeting and parting salute saying, "live long and prosper." The parents in unison returned his salute with "peace and long life".

Without having uttered a word, the parents gave each other satisfied looks as they prepared to leave the meeting. T'Les nodded to the others as they filed out, with an outwardly calm demeanor which she did not feel. She would have words with her daughter who seemed to have been the ringleader of this childish rebellion. Had she been projecting her wish for her own husband's presence onto Koss and T'Pol? Perhaps encouraging them to socialize at this age had not been logical. T'Les contemplated this as she walked home.

….

In the evening, a few days later that week, T'Pol lay on her stomach across her bed while her mother meditated in another room. T'Pol had been crying. T'Nis and Lovik's parents had told their children they were not to talk to her anymore and they were complying. Koss had not come by to walk her home since the day she had walked home with Lovik, leaving Koss with such a long face at the school door. She avoided him at school and he did not approach her. She now walked to school alone, studied alone. There were smirks and whispers behind her back.

The only thing that had improved, was her grades, from 98.532 to 99.861. All was not lost because her mother had found a tutor for her, a Vulcan Science Academy student who, T'Pol knew, was engaged mainly to keep an eye on her. After school, the student took her on field trips around the city and out in the desert. Together they studied the science and literature of their own and other worlds. It actually was more interesting then playing with children her own age as she used to after school.

"You are so much like your father it is exasperating."

T'Pol had not noticed her mother come into her room. "Then why am I not with him instead of with you?" T'Pol challenged her mother.

T'Les sat on the edge of T'Pol's bed. "I know you miss him. But his work is dangerous. No parent would put their child in that kind of danger just to have the convenience of seeing them more often. I do not blame you for this incident over the bondings. This never would have happened if you had two parents to raise you like the other children have."

T'Les paused to smooth out a non-existent wrinkle on the bed cover. "Also, I want you to know that I have discussed the incident with Koss's parents. They feel Koss is partly to blame. Bonded children should not socialize with each other. The bond is set deep into your mind so it won't assert itself until the proper time. To socialize with your future mate puts an adult burden on a child, making them act as if they are already married, when they should be enjoying the lack of obligations in a happy childhood. They should be playing and studying."

T'les shifted positon. "Lie straighter T'Pol so I can massage your back. You are so tense. That is better." T'Les worked her way down T'Pol's back and T'Pol started to relax. She had so much needed the soft loving touch of her mother. T'Les was quiet until she finished the massage. "Turn over T'Pol and sit up now." T'Pol complied, pressing a pillow to her back and leaning against the wall behind the bed. T'Les moved into a crossed leg position which made her look almost as young as her daughter, like two children having an intimate conversation.

T'Les's face took on a softer look. "Now I have more to say to you. Koss's parents have told Koss not to come near you anymore. They do not know why the bond seemed to kick in with Koss so early and they think you acted properly to reject him at this time. They said 'T'Pol was right in her behavior, so why cannot Koss behave himself like good little T'Pol? No wonder she wanted to change bond mates!' I think he was quite upset about that. He asked 'Why are these protective feelings bad? Why does my body feel good when I am close to T'Pol? There is something about closeness, which energizes me.' His parents have told him it is something that Vulcan boys should not know about till they are older, and if they have these feelings unnaturally early, should repress them until they are in their thirties at least. They said 'You are a bad boy Koss, and behaving illogically.' But I think they are being hard on their son."

T'Les and T'Pol smiled at each other for a second until T'Les continued. "Koss is not really a bad boy. He cannot help it if his bond activated prematurely. He feels hurt because he really cares about you. That caring will be good one day, but not now. I asked his parents to be gentle with him. He likes drawing buildings so his parents have given him a drawing table so he can substitute creativity for emotion. I told them I approve of this creative activity because it supplements meditation. And speaking of meditation…" T'Les reached down for a package she had placed by the side of the bed. "I have something I know you have been wanting."

T'Pol took the package and opened it slowly. She lifted up a beautifully soft meditation robe in a deep blue color. Springing off the bed, she held it up to her neck. It was perfect. The hem just brushed the floor. T'Pol's bright soulful eyes were all the thanks that T'Les needed. She rose and left T'Pol to put on her new robe and go out into the garden for her evening meditation. T'Pol felt grown up in her new robe. The advancing evening shadows never looked this inviting before. She almost thought that she would begin to enjoy evening meditation more than morning meditation, just like her mother.

8


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: No filthy lucre changed hands

Note: This story occurs some time after the events in the story "Growing Up Vulcan".

A Candle in the Wind

By Bineshii

T'Pol placed the candle on the sand. The soft blue crystal globe protected the glowing, flickering light within. The surface of the desert was in motion, an eighth of an inch of wind blown sand flowed around the heavy round base of the candle holder. It was mesmerizing if stared at for long. Yet this was not a strong wind, only enough to whip her meditation robe open, so she pressed it closed with the Velcro strips. Velcro. A Vulcan invention which those Terrans had now, as Second Foremother T'Mir told the story. T'Mir was why T'Pol was out in the desert at the border of day and night – a transitional time when the veil between worlds was thinnest.

But the sand was building up in front of her feet, so she sank down on her knees beside the candle and closed her eyes. She pictured a leaf dropping from a flower in her home garden – a favorite meditation technique. Pulling her hood down lower over her face, she then clasped her hands lightly, sinking back on her heels to begin a meditative trance. The purpose of this ritual rested lightly in her mind until she became primed for the katra contact.

Three-quarters of a mile away, a wild sehlat sniffed the air, detecting the scent of a Vulcan. Dinner? Perhaps, if it was a Vulcan cub. The sehlat lumbered off into a desert-covering gate.

The leaf in T'Pol's mind blew over onto its ribbed back and skidded in the breeze across the paving stones of the garden walk. It turned over again when the breeze pasted it to the base of the protective garden wall that kept the vast desert at bay. This turning of the leaf was new in T'Pol's initiation technique, a response to the wind of the open desert dwarfing the girl and her small blue-globed candle. It paralleled the blending of outer and inner nature – a very Vulcan merging of setting and being. T'Pol finally felt centered. She could now make her purpose known to the katras on the other side. The garden visualization faded and the image of a mountain rose in her mind.

The sehlat paused, scanning a 180 degree arch with its snout, breathing in sand grains with the air. Its nose hairs filtered the sand out, mixing it with moisture; it fell in clumps back onto the desert floor. Yes, a Vulcan cub. It had been a few years since the sehlat had consumed his last one. That had been at the time when the cubs were sent into the desert in a group, then separating, the cubs took their own paths for some purpose beyond the ken of sehlats. Each time this exodus of cubs occurred, at least one lucky sehlat would make a good kill and provide a feast for its mate. This was not such a time, yet, there was a lone cub abroad in the desert at twilight, in the wind, and not moving.

_Foremother, why must my father be always away? Like you were. What is the great attraction to work off-world? I too, feel the pull of it. Is it genetic?_ _Are we from elsewhere among the stars or is it just the heavy metals fused by exploded stars that lie within our makeup that calls to us? _ _I have argued with my mother again and wish to discuss something with my father. I require your advise in this matter._

Close. The cub was close, now. The sehlat crept forward, crouching and rising and crouching, on silent paws. There was a tiny light in the sand. The sehlat focused on it, creeping toward it.

Hands unclasped, T'Pol touched the finger pads of both hands, listening. The mountain was dark in her mind as was the desert now that 40 Eridani A had sunk below the sand's curve against the sky. A tingling in her mind. A feeling that it was not unusual to long for the stars. What_? Foremother, a message? Something to tell me?_

The sehlat crouched lower, planting its paws close together for the spring.

_Danger, Foremother? Why are you pushing me away from you, pushing me out of my meditation trance? _T'Pol became aware again of the globe of light. Something was telling her to grasp the base, so she reached for it. The globe tilted off the base as she snatched it to her, the candle rolled away over the sand inside the globe, still lit. A form dropped over the globe and the light went out.

The sehlat had leaped toward the light - pouncing on it would land him on the cub. But it had not. Glass shattered underneath his paws, his claws digging into cold sand, not hot Vulcan flesh! Pain stabbed into one paw, and the sehlat rolled onto its back. He could hear the running footfalls of the cub retreating over the sand. But his paw was injured and he must attend to that first. He pulled on the glass shard with his teeth, splitting his tongue on the jagged crystal edge, blood flowing over his teeth thus making it hard to retain a grip on the shard. It must come out. It must!

It did, but it took a full minute to work it back and forth and free his paw from the pain. The sehlat licked its paw. It would heal, but not before the evening hunt was over. Patience was part of the desert life. It would be tomorrow or the night after, before the sehlat would hunt again.

T'Pol's sandals flew over the sands. She had missed when she threw the candle base at the sehlat. For that was what the shadow was, she was sure. The smell. It had only been evident at the last moment, for the sehlat had approached downwind. Sehlats were not stupid. Sehlats were good hunters. So were Vulcans, and over the eons the two species had hunted and eaten each other, for food was scarce in their desert world.

Now the dim nightlights in the niches of garden walls were visible. The suburban homes of her neighborhood began to take dark square shape on the familiar foothill slope. Her feet felt the rise of the land. Then, her night vision separated the unique outline of her own house from those of the others. She threw out her hands to touch the still sun-warmed stones of the garden wall. Then, more for comfort than guidance, she kept her hand on the wall as she followed it to the iron gate. T'Pol lifted the latch slowly, so her mother would not hear it. The gate closed and locked automatically behind her. Hugging her blue meditation robe more tightly, T'Pol slipped through the garden and pushed the sliding glass door open. Closing it softly in the dark room, she turned to see her mother standing with arms folded, in the shadow of the hallway.

"Mother."

"T'Pol. I suppose it is useless to ask where you have been."

"I have been talking to my second foremother."

"Again?"

"Yes."

"Where is your lantern?"

"The crystal fell off the base in the wind and broke. I could not see the base in the dark. I will retrieve it in the daylight."

"Very well. You will replace the crystal from your allowance."

"Understood, Mother."

"Good night, then."

T'Les retreated down the hallway and turned into her room. The door closed.

T'Pol breathed deeply and removed her robe. It was chill in her under dress, so she walked quietly to her room and threw the robe carelessly over a chair, to be folded in the morning. She slid gratefully into her bed pulling the comforter up to her chin. Glancing at the robe, she now saw the six-inch rent near the hem. _Surak protect us!_

Perhaps tomorrow she could mend her robe so that her mother would never notice it. But if T'Les noticed, she would not comment. That was the way of Vulcan life: crowded settlements in an ocean of harsh empty landscape. It promoted an ascetic lifestyle, acceptance of danger, silent understanding but acknowledgement of privacy, and lessons learned in the desert by candlelight.


End file.
